“Ah!” he replied, “she wants to be Ruler of the Universe.”

“Return, and find her back in her hovel,” replied the Flounder.

And there the fisherman and his wife remained for the rest of their days.

The Valiant Little Tailor3

023

(SEVEN AT ONE BLOW)

One summer’s morning a Tailor was sitting on his bench by the window in very good spirits, sewing away with all his might, and presently up the street came a peasant woman, crying, “Good preserves for sale. Good preserves for sale.” This cry sounded nice in the Tailor’s ears, and sticking his diminutive head out of the window he called out, “Here, my good woman, just bring your wares here.” The woman mounted the three steps up to the Tailor’s house with her heavy basket, and began to unpack all the pots together before him. He looked at them all, held them up to the light, put his nose to them, and at last said, “These preserves appear to me to be very nice, so you may weigh me out four half-ounces, my good woman; I don’t mind even if you make it a quarter of a pound.” The woman, who expected to have met with a good customer, gave him what he wished, and went away grumbling, very much dissatisfied.

“Now,” exclaimed the Tailor, “Heaven will send me a blessing on this preserve, and give me fresh strength and vigour;” and taking the bread out of the cupboard he cut himself a slice the size of the whole loaf, and spread the preserve upon it. “That will taste by no means bad,” said he; “but, before I have a bite, I will just get this waistcoat finished.” So he laid the bread down near him, and stitched away, making larger and larger stitches every time for joy. Meanwhile the smell of the preserve mounted to the ceiling, where flies were sitting in great numbers, and enticed them down, so that soon a regular swarm of them had settled on the bread. “Holloa, who invited you?” exclaimed the Tailor, hunting away the unbidden guests; but the flies, not understanding his language, would not be driven off, and came again in greater numbers than before. This put the little man in a boiling passion, and snatching up in his rage a rag of cloth he brought it down with an unmerciful swoop upon them. When he raised it again he counted no less than seven lying dead before him with outstretched legs. “What a fellow you are!” said he to himself, wondering at his own bravery. “The whole town shall know of this.” In great haste he cut himself out a band, hemmed it, and then put on it in large characters, “SEVEN AT ONE BLOW.” “Ah!” said he, “not one city alone, the whole world shall know it;” and his heart fluttered with joy, like a lambkin’s tail.

The little Tailor bound the belt round his body, and prepared to travel forth into the wide world, thinking the workshop too small for his valiant deeds. Before he set out, however, he looked round his house to see if there was any thing he could take with him; but he found only an old cheese, which he pocketed; and, remarking a bird before the door which was entangled in the bushes, he caught it and put that in his pocket also. Directly after he set out bravely on his travels; and, as he was light and active, he felt no weariness. His road led up a hill, and when he reached the highest point of it, he found a great Giant sitting there, who was looking about him very composedly!

The little Tailor, however, went boldly up, and said, “Good-day, comrade; in faith you sit there and see the whole world stretched below you. I am also on the road thither to try my luck. Have you a mind to go with me?”

The Giant looked contemptuously at the little Tailor, and said, “You vagabond, you miserable fellow!”

“That may be,” replied the Tailor; “but here you may read what sort of a man I am:” and unbuttoning his coat he showed the Giant his belt. The Giant read, “Seven at one blow;” and thinking they were men whom the Tailor had slain, he conceived a little respect for him. Still he wished to prove him first, so taking up a stone he squeezed it in his hand so that water dropped out of it. “Do that after me,” said he to the other, “if you have any strength.”

“If it be nothing worse than that,” said the Tailor, “that’s play to me.” And diving into his pocket, he brought out the cheese, and squeezed it till the whey ran out of it, and said, “Now I think that’s a little better.”

The Giant did not know what to say, and could not believe it of the little man; so, taking up another stone, he threw it so high that one could scarcely see it with the eye, saying, “There, you manikin, do that after me.”

“Well done,” said the Tailor; “but your stone must fall down again to the ground. I will throw one up which shall not come back:” and dipping into his pocket he took out the bird and threw it into the air. The bird, rejoicing in its freedom, flew straight up, and then far away, and did not return. “How does that little affair please you, comrade?” asked the Tailor.

“You can throw well, certainly,” replied the Giant; “now let us see if you are in trim to carry something out of the common.” So saying, he led him to a huge oak-tree, which lay upon the ground, and said, “If you are strong enough, just help me to carry this tree out of the forest.”

“With all my heart,” replied the Tailor; “do you take the trunk upon your shoulder, and I will raise the boughs and branches, which are the heaviest, and carry them.”

The Giant took the trunk upon his shoulder, but the Tailor placed himself on a branch, so that the Giant, who was not able to look round, was forced to carry the whole tree, and the Tailor besides. He, being behind, was very merry, and chuckled at the trick, and presently began to whistle the song, “There rode three Tailors out at the gate,” as if the carrying of trees were child’s play. The Giant, after he had staggered along a short distance with his heavy burden, could go no further, and shouted out, “Do you hear? I must let the tree fall.” The Tailor, springing down, quickly embraced the tree with both arms, as if he had been carrying it, and said to the Giant, “Are you such a big fellow, and yet cannot you carry this tree by yourself?”

Then they journeyed on farther, and as they came to a cherry tree the Giant seized the top of the tree where the ripest fruits hung, and bending it down gave it to the Tailor to hold, bidding him eat. But the Tailor was much too weak to hold the tree down, and when the Giant let go, the tree flew up into the air, and the Tailor was carried with it. He came down on the other side, however, without injury, and the Giant said, “What does that mean? Have you not strength enough to hold that twig?” “My strength did not fail me,” replied the Tailor; “do you suppose that that was any hard thing for one who has killed seven at one blow? I have sprung over the tree because the hunters were shooting below there in the thicket. Spring after me, if you can.” The Giant made the attempt, but could not clear the tree, and stuck fast in the branches; so that in this affair, too, the Tailor was the better man.

After this the Giant said, “Since you are such a valiant fellow, come with me to our house and stop a night with us.” The Tailor consented and followed him; and when they entered the cave, there sat by the fire two other Giants, each having a roast sheep in his hand, of which he was eating. The Tailor sat down, thinking, “Ah, this is much more like the world than is my work-shop.” And soon the Giant showed him a bed where he might lie down and go to sleep. The bed, however, was too big for him. So he slipped out of it and crept into a corner. When midnight came, and the Giant thought the Tailor would be in a deep sleep, he got up, and taking a great iron bar beat the bed right through at one stroke, and supposed he had thereby given the Tailor his death-blow.